#i just tried to do this but posted it on the wrong page lol

[genericpuff]

💣💥💣💥💣

so with Episode 67 finally posted and the dust settled, I wanted to share some funny behind-the-scenes stuff with you all.

Clip Studio is a great piece of software, it's what allows Banshriek and I to work on the same episode together via cloud-syncing (it's a function called "Teamworks" in the app) but it's also... kind of garbage sometimes. Without getting too much into it, CSP has a bottleneck issue with how it predominantly uses CPU rather than the graphics card in a computer. And considering it's literally graphics software, yeah, you can probably figure out pretty quickly with the most bare minimum of computer knowledge why this is a problem that's really silly for it to have LOL

ANYWAYS. This has been known to cause problems between Banshriek and I when trying to complete an episode. Problems that - often enough for me to tell you stories about it - result in us having to essentially "rebuild" the episode we're working on. This doesn't necessarily mean having to redraw anything (thankfully that doesn't happen very often) but it usually goes down something like this:

1.) The software suddenly has an issue syncing our changes which results in either conflicted files that can't update, software crashes that refuse to load pages, updates not even going through, or taking WAY too long to update to the point that we'd rather just rebuild and work on the episode independently and then swap the files and layers when it's time for the other person to do their part.

2.) I have to inform Banshriek that Clip Studio crashed again, and in the event that I can't get back into page editing because of the aforementioned issues ^^^ they immediately get to backing up their most recent version of the file that's stored on their computer. Thankfully a lot of the time these versions are pretty up to date, but it's still a moment of tension every single time because these crashes don't always happen the same way every time.

3.) Using the backup version, a new .cmc file (the file that contains every page for each episode, it's the thing that lets you make pages for comics in the software!) is created by whoever has access to the pages without issue (usually Banshriek is the one who's able to do it, this has become a very one-sided problem LMAO) and then is sent to me so that I can upload it to the cloud to replace the old version. This file is then usually called something like "Episode#BACKUP" to distinguish between both versions as we usually still have the older versions downloaded as well.

4.) Work (hopefully) continues as normal. Though it's definitely caused setbacks, so far our survival rate is still 100% 😆

This happens at least every other episode. It's become rare to go a whole episode without having to go through this process. We're still trying to figure out what we can do to avoid it, but we've tried a bunch of other options (and Banshriek has created some test episodes using pages from completed episodes that crashed for the sake of experimenting) and so far it's still a struggle understanding what exactly is going wrong with Clip Studio and it's syncing features. Fortunately, Banshriek and I are both auDHD enough that we're gonna obsess over it until we figure it out LMAO but until then, we're constantly having to treat Clip Studio like a live snake that's trying to wrangle itself out of our hands 💀😆

And the most recent episode? Episode 67, which ran a week and a day late? It set a new personal best for number of backups, because we had to rebuild it not just once, but TWICE.

What we've noticed is that sometimes you can barely make a change to an episode and these crashes still happen, as if major changes have been made. So far the best hypothesis Banshriek has come up with regarding this observation is that the software struggles more to update changes that affect overall pixel count and appearance - stuff like moving canvases, flipping canvases, adding on textured layers (which is what we do at the end of making each page) , etc. that covers a lot of pixels at a time, even if it's only changing the hues / colors slightly, seems to cause the most problems.

During the production of Episode 67, the following plagues came to pass:

Our car exploded

Our cat nearly exploded (btw! for anyone wondering from my last post about him, he's doing better now!)

Our toilet pipes froze twice (and exploded once)

Democracy in the U.S. exploded

My husband's wisdom teeth were exploding so the last 3 of them were removed all at once

The files for Episode 67 exploded twice and had to be rebuilt just to keep it on life support (by the end of the episode we were literally sending files back and forth via Google Drive like peasants 😔 /hj)

The most non-explosive thing to happen was the tattoo shop I work at moving locations up the street, and even then, I came very close to exploding a few times during that process LMAO (and our debit machine just exploded so we're cash only for the next few days sksksks)

This episode was probably our most cursed yet, and frankly, it couldn't be more fitting, I think Dionysus himself had a hand in our madness, just for the sake of being on theme with this episode. And the worst part, we haven't even gotten into the truly chaotic stuff yet. All Dionysus has done so far is slam Hades' head into a table, he's barely gotten started. Dionysus only knows what Episode 68 has in store for me and Banshriek as well 😭💀

[elenadoeslife]

your first love hits different

[theplatypusblue]

The Spinjitzu Master

some yapping below the cut :D

hey guys i made a comic!! I actually finished something!!! yayayyayay!!!!! I've been so busy and stressed lately and this was a nice thing to chip away at to de-stress n stuff. The one time I tried doing a multi-page comic like this I totally lost steam in the middle of it and didn't finish, so at the very least I'm happy that I managed to like. get anything down on the page at all lol.

Anyway I'm always thinking about this little guy.... his life was so sad bro like what the heck. Granted we don't actually know that much about his life, but you can extrapolate stuff, and that's basically what this comic is. I like to think that the fsm kind of stumbled into some of the things he did early on in his life. There's like, no way this dude was nearly as cool and epic and in-control as the narrative makes him seem. In my mind he's just as lame as the rest of his lame-ass family; it's just that everyone (his sons, the ninja, the entire rest of ninjago) idolizes him so much and can really only see him as this kind of legendary figure. In reality I think he was just a lonely kid dealing with a lot of like. war and conflict and general suffering. And then (at least in my mind) he managed to get a couple of lucky breaks which eventually lead him to carve out his own little space for himself in ninjago. So I was thinking about that kind of thing 👍

(And then you can see how all of that stuff bleeds into how he raised wu and garm, but that's an entirely different thing for an entirely different day lol)

I'm like 90% sure I got something wrong/mixed something up lore-wise and that this whole thing doesn't actually make sense as a result. but also! The idea felt clever enough to go ahead with it anyway :3 and I wanted to post it before the show dropped more fsm lore (seriously when is dr gonna get into more ninjago history... I can feel it on the horizon it's like the one big thing I'm looking forward to... give me more lore dumps!! more flashbacks!!! more!!!!!!!)

[obsessiveloveistheonlylove]

Yandere bruce wayne with neglected!daughter reader

Seen a bunch of neglected reader fics recently but I haven't seen one of a Reader who slowly starts to take advantage of the situation and uses batfam for their money and connections so here's this! This only focuses on Bruce for now but if anyone is interested I'd be willing to do some for the other batfam members + hcs for when/if they snap and kidnap the reader. 

Was suppoused to headcanons but ended up more as long rambles than anything lol mainly set up for later posts detailing the situation

Pt1 it got too long, word count ; 2461

Unedited

___

Bruce is absolutely the most susceptible to this behavior, he feels the most guilt about the situation (as he should for being a neglectful father) and he is not going to lie to himself to try and save face and make himself feel better and if he does it's only for a short while before reality slaps him in the face and he has to see the truth. The truth is that there is no one to blame but himself.

When he first noticed your disappearance it had happened slowly… entirely too slow when he really took the time to think about it. You had been gone for a full year and he hadn't even noticed? Were you even old enough to be on your own like that? Something he felt ashamed that he even had to ask. When Alfred informs him that you're nineteen just this month he's shocked not only that you're an adult and that he didn't even realize your birthday had passed but that he couldn't even remember your face. He searches his memories for your Visage but all that he can recall is murky; he can't even remember the correct shade of your eyes or your hair and it startles him how long has it been since he took the time to properly look at you? 

It takes some time but eventually he remembers your face with sudden clarity, he hadn't seen it in a while and the only image he could conjure up was when he first saw you, a small helpless looking child left on his doorstep by commissioner Gordon.  your eyes held the same dull glassy look that his did the night his parents died, you had lost your mom in a similar vein he felt he could relate to at the time. he remembered seeing you and feeling sad for you but not in the way a father does for his child the way he felt was the same way he felt as Batman seeing victims in Gotham streets you didn't deserve this life but you weren't anyone close to him. 

His chest aches and he remembers the way you'd clung to him your first week in the manor and then the way you wilted when he shut that down, it wasn't like he was trying to hurt you but he couldn't have you following him around everywhere especially not when gothams crime was getting out of hand even with the other members picking up his slack. So he reprimanded you, way too harshly now that he looks back on it he knows he only meant to keep you from discovering his secret but he could have worded it better instead he made it sound like you were a burden. Maybe you were to him at the time he thinks and is disgusted with himself for even letting the thought cross his head. 

He reads your diary page after page until he reads through the whole thing. The first few pages are hopeful but solemn detailing how much you missed your mother but you're glad that you have a whole new family and you hope that they will like you, it's heartbreaking to read that kind of childish hope turn into sadness and then hate. You detailed how no one would make time for you that you'd tried everything to get their attention but you'd get blown off by each one it turns into rants about you asking what was wrong with you and why no one ever spent any time with you the writing was scribbled on so he knows you did it in a hurry just to vent out your frustration. The part that hurt most were the pages about him, you had nothing good to say about him in fact in one of the pages you had written that you didn't have much to say about him at all that you hardly knew him and barely saw him once a month and couldn't even call him your father. 

Surely that couldn't be true right? He's not the best father figure by far but he always tried to make time for dick, Tim, Jason, Steph, Damian and Cass ... .surely he did for you. 

He tries to find memories of him being a good father or at least trying to be any kind of father figure to you at all but he can't he can only see the times he rejected your pleas to spend time with you for things he deemed more important than you he sees it clearly each time he rejected you how you got sadder and sadder how you seemed to wilt at each and every rejection until you stopped asking. 

he tries to tell himself that he did it for your protection that he just didn't want to get you involved in the crime fighting scene and since gothams streets were never without crime he spent an exorbitant amount of his time as Batman down in the batcave or out fighting crime with his other children and that's why he couldn't spend time with you. And that's why he seemingly had so many memories with them in the recent years; hell even in the recent weeks he has more memories with dick and the others than he ever had made with you. he tries to use it as an excuse to mask the truth; that you didn't matter in the grand scheme of his life, at least not then but he's going to do everything to make this right.

You'll be surprised to suddenly get a ton of texts from an unknown number even more so when you find out it's from bruce. Suddenly he's asking you how you've been, how was the move, are you in college right now, what major did you take? Obviously you're taken aback when the man who acted like you didn't exist suddenly wants to know everything about you. You would think he'd needed something but you know better than that what could he possibly need with you now? You don't have any money and he wouldn't need that anyways. Maybe he's dying and needs a kidney or something…whatever you don't care that man can rot. 

You leave his messages on read of course, because you don't owe him a response and well maybe to be a bit petty and give him a taste of his own medicine. You don't know how bitter the taste is in Bruce's mouth, he knows you've seen them so why won't you respond? Bruce usually isn't a multi texter but he'll send more and more trying to get any kind of response out of you, he's constantly checking his phone hoping to see three little dots appear and he's noticeably slightly more angsty when out patrolling with the others. 

The texts were annoying but you could mute his notifications and after the first few weeks you basically forgot about the texts going about your normal life until he started calling. It seemed like he was always calling Day in day out, you blocked his number because of how annoying it was but he always just gets a new one leaving the same text “ hey your name its dad” and then the calling would resume. 

One day you pick up and Bruce sounds so relieved when he says your name into the receiver you figure he might really need that kidney if he sounds this excited to see you.

When you answer back he knows you aren't excited in fact you sound completely disinterested in him which takes him by surprise, isn't this what you wanted? What you cried for in your diary begging God that your father would notice you. You're older now so maybe you just aren't looking for that kind of attention anymore, the thought haunts him the idea that he could never truly make it up to you still he pushes through his voice sounding nervous as he starts to tentatively ask about your day. You cut him off with a scoff after some terse conversation telling him to just get to the point already and stop wasting your time. 

The silence is deafening and you almost hang up before he croaks out a response “sorry name, I just wanted to know what you were up to I know we uh.. haven't talked in awhile I just wanted to hear from you and know that everything was alright”  could this really be your father? He sounds so pathetic to you at that very moment, nothing like the confident man you saw on television often nor the man you saw taking care of everyone but you. 

And no nothing was alright you were working a job you hated in some shitty little apartment in Gotham that you had to fear if it would get broken into or not because the damn landlord wouldn't change the faulty locks a rage takes you and you just let it all fall out cursing him for your shitty life and the shitty apartment and for being a shitty father letting all that rage out until you're left heaving.  its silent after your outburst you think he might have hung up but after a moment he offers to pay for a new place and offers to pay your current rent until you can break the lease and that he will take care of you and not to worry about anything financial telling you to quit your job and to send him your bank so he can get things sorted out.  

At first you wanted to vehemently deny this, wanting to prove to yourself that you didn't need him or his help but something In the back of your head tells you to accept it, that if he expects anything back for it then that's his fault for assuming. So you tell him and soon there's a large sum of money in your account more than you have ever had in there. For once you can actually afford to treat yourself instead of eating shitty microwaved ramen, and so you dine out in a nice reasonably expensive restaurant with your friends and you enjoy yourself. 

A week passes in silence and then he's sending you pictures of luxury apartments telling you to pick out any one you want and that he'll get everything settled and you almost can't believe this. Would he actually pay for something so outrageously expensive? You almost doubt it but once your lease is up Bruce is at your door helping you move out any furniture you wanted to keep which was almost nothing seeing as everything was already worn out anyways. 

You didn't say much to him and he seemed to realize you were in no talking mood so he allowed you to be quiet and told you about himself instead talking about the boys and what he'd been working on recently, it feels like what he should've been for you years ago an interaction you'd have killed for when you were fourteen and it just pisses you off so you turn on the radio instead to drown out his words. You don't care how he's doing, you don't want to hear about dick or damian, you're only accepting his help because you're tired of living in that shitty apartment. The ride is otherwise silent except for the annoyingly upbeat pop music which would probably make Damian or Jason have an aneurysm if they had to listen to it. 

The goodbye is  awkward. You can tell Bruce wants to come inside and talk more but you thank him for helping you move in the furniture and shut the door. 

He buys you new furniture without you asking and sends it in by the second week you're in the apartment. You don't realize that he stalks your posts and that he saw one of you complaining about the lack of good furniture.

Life has never been better for you, you live in luxury and can go on shopping sprees literally whenever you want and Bruce sends you a random stream of cash whenever you start to get low and you're definitely not going to look a gift horse in the mouth not when you enjoy every luxury you are afforded. 

Life is good until a certain black haired prick starts inserting himself into your life and this time it isn't bruce, nope it just had to be your annoyingly bubbly, touchy, and all too friendly ‘stepbrother’ dick grayson.

___

So yeah all in all Bruce has the capability to recognize your strained relationship is all his fault and that he never should have ignored you and how selfish he was to put his duties as Batman above his duties as a father to you. He realized he didn't even try to balance the two. 

And Despite himself he ended up hurting you and neglecting you so he feels he owes it to you to make things right even if 'making things right' entails him buying you a luxury apartment or purchasing the latest phone or new car. The best part is that Bruce will not demand time from you (yet) because of his guilt.  He simply suggests that maybe you should come out with him saying that he planned a whole day for the two of you but the ball is in your court since whether or not you ever accept his invites he will continue to be your cash cow to absolve himself of his guilt. 

It's fun because now you get to watch him wilt everytime you reject his attempts at reconnecting, you get to have your petty revenge watching as a part of him dies inside each and every time you ignore the conversations he tries to start when pulling money out of the bank,  you get to watch how he seems to lose all of his luster when you leave once the cash is in your hands without so much as a thanks. Bruce isn't stupid he knows this dynamic is unhealthy and recognizes it for what it is but this is the only way he can get you to talk to him or to even look in his direction. He has his limits though eventually you will talk to him whether you want to or not 

[leighsartworks216]

You Have A Type, Don't You?

Astarion x gn!Tav/Reader

Based on this post

I wrote this instead of doing any of the work I need to do! I'm gonna go do that now lol

Warnings: innuendos, minor references to sex, the barest hints of jealousy

Word Count: 1,601

Masterlist

AO3

Tag List Form

Your pencil scratched across the paper, drawing Astarion over and over again on a single page. This wasn’t anything surprising; you drew all of your companions. Gale, Wyll, Karlach, Shadowheart, Lae’zel - they all had pages of their own, but it was usually only one drawing. Some had even posed for it. It was just a way to relax, and their faces always lit up when you showed them, even if they tried not to show it.

Everyone needed a break from fighting and exploring day in day out, so you decided one more day here wouldn’t hurt. As such, you’ve spent the better half of the day just drawing. At first it was little doodles of Scratch, but then you realized you hadn’t drawn the vampire spawn yet.

Most of the expressions you captured came from memory. You’d occasionally sneak a glance for quick reference, pretending to stretch or get distracted by some birds. But at some point, he’d disappeared from camp. You just assumed he’d gone off hunting.

That assumption was proved quite wrong when a voice tsked over your shoulder, almost directly in your ear.

Startling away from the sound, you whipped around to see Astarion crouched down. He wore a self-satisfied smirk and settled down into a full sit on the ground.

“It seems someone is infatuated,” he teased. “So who is it? Someone we saved from peril, perhaps?”

Oh. Right. It had completely slipped your mind.

You cleared your throat as your cheeks warmed and smiled. “Y-Yeah, something like that.”

He chuckled. “Come on, darling, there’s nothing to be shy about. Spare none of the juicy details. What’s he like?”

“He’s, well,” you stammer, “he’s interesting.”

He scoffed. “That’s hardly juicy or a detail. Or is he just another pretty face?” He leaned forward, trying to get a better look at your drawings. You wanted to pull them away and hide them, but why? All the others had drawings done of them, and you loved showing it off when they were done. Why was this any different?

“No, he’s a lot more than that,” you admit quietly. You weren’t good at lying - usually Astarion took the lead any time you had to - but maybe if you didn’t tell a complete lie… “He’s funny, charming. His laugh lights up my world. He’s had a rough go of it, but he doesn’t like it to show.”

“He must like you if you know,” he hummed. Your heart leapt into your throat as he pointed to the pin pricks drawn on the neck. “Is he a vampire, too?” He chuckled, but it sounded strained. “You have a type, don’t you?”

You scoffed even as warmth flooded to your cheeks. “No! I do not have a type.”

“No, of course not,” he played along. “Certainly not for creatures of the night who bite into that pretty little neck of yours.” Despite his smile, there was a tension in his eyes. “I don’t mind, dear. I’d be more than happy to scrounge around some nights so you may indulge your new lover.”

You shook your head. “You don’t have to do that, Astarion,” you assured. “He’s not… We’re not together.”

“No?” You shook your head again. He opened his mouth to give you advice or console you, but you cut him off. It was better to end this fantasy now, before it began to hurt too much.

“It doesn’t matter. Besides, you shouldn’t be sneaking around so you can look over my shoulder. I could have been drawing something terrible.”

He laughed. “All the more reason to risk a peek. You’re so good, it would be nice to know you can be tempted.” Then he scowled. “Unless it’s something terribly dull. You deserve much more than missionary.”

If your cheeks weren’t already blazing hot…

“In any case, I was only wondering when you’d draw my portrait. You seemed more than happy to provide the others with a likeness. And…” He looked past you, seemingly far away. “I haven’t seen myself in two centuries. One gets curious, especially when you’re as vain as me.”

If he heard your heart start racing, he didn’t comment on it. Drawing him would make him realize it wasn’t some other vampire crush you were drawing. But, it had been a while since your adventure began, and you’d drawn everyone else. You swallowed down your anxiety. “Yeah! Of course! Did you wanna pose, or anything?”

He blinked and suddenly he was back in the present. A sly smirk covered up whatever emotions could be lingering on his face. “If your little vampire friend doesn’t get too jealous. I would actually like if you could draw me just,” he paused, “smiling. It would be nice to know what everyone else sees. Make sure I’m not off-putting, you know how it is.”

Once he was sitting comfortably, you turned to a fresh page and began drawing. The paper was hidden from his view, but he watched as your hand, wrist, and arm all moved in tandem like a clock’s gears to create an image. Your eyes moved between the sketch and him multiple times. Sometimes you’d glance up and draw for almost a minute. Then other times you kept going back and forth, constantly checking for reference.

Watching you work was fascinating. All your surroundings faded away. Karlach being her usual loud self, Wyll dancing, Gale cooking, Lae’zel sharpening weapons - nothing could turn your attention from him. He almost felt subconscious with the intensity of it. Your eyes studied him, taking in every single feature, and translated it to your journal. What did you see when you looked at him, he wondered. What did the world see? It had been so long, he couldn’t even remember his face. All he knew was he was attractive.

With a final few marks, brushed away to blend them into the rest, you looked down at your masterpiece. You were so caught up in the drawing you forgot why you were hesitant before, but now that Astarion stared at you from two different angles, your anxiety came back full force. There was no way out of this.

“All done, dear?”

You smiled shakily up at him and turned the journal around. His face scrunched up in confusion. When he met your eyes, he was decidedly unamused. “Darling, if you’re going to draw your fleeting fancy, don’t trick me first. I know it’s hard to see past the depraved bloodlust, but we don’t all look alike, you know.”

“No, Astarion, it’s not- I-”

While you fought to find words, Karlach picked up the slack. Cupping her hands around her mouth, she shouted across the camp, “IT’S YOU, FANGS!”

Dread washed over you. You closed your eyes. If a merciful god was going to kill you and rid you of this embarrassment, now would be the time. A bolt of lightning, perhaps. You’d even welcome decapitation.

You risked a glance when you felt your book being tugged carefully from your hands. His eyes were wide, mouth slightly open as he tried to comprehend what the fuck had just happened. Gods, now he was going to leave camp. You buried your face in your hands. He was going to pack everything up and leave before the sun even touched the horizon. And you’d never see him again. Maybe you’d go find Cazador yourself, just to kill the bastard.

“All these drawings… are me? Darling?”

You inhaled deeply and lowered your hands, but you couldn’t bear looking at him. He could stab you with his dagger and you’d apologize to him for it all. Hell, you’d let him drink you dry if it meant leaving this all behind you. “You’re very pretty,” you admitted quietly. “I didn’t know how to ask, and just- You can rip the pages out, burn them, whatever makes you feel better. And if you leave, I won’t blame you or chase after you or-”

“I’m not upset.” Your head never shot up so fast. “Well, a little. You’re not subtle when you stare, you know. I thought you were just uncomfortable being around a vampire, but this…” He turned back to the portrait you’d just finished. “This is really what I look like?”

You swallowed away a small portion of the shame. At least he wasn’t running away. “As best as I can capture you, anyway. Y-You’ve got these sharp eyes, and your hair curls around your ears, and you get little wrinkles around your eyes and mouth when you laugh - and I just like drawing you.”

The page flipped over again. The page of expressions, capturing everything you described. When he smiled full and bright his fangs were on full display, accented by the laugh lines on either side of his mouth. And the puncture wounds on his neck…

“Ah, so when I said you had a type…” He chuckled, but it didn’t hold as much warmth as usual.

“Your laugh does light up my world,” you admit. His red eyes were on you in an instant, flickering over your whole face. “Just, for the record.”

He glanced at the drawings once more, contemplative. Then, he held the book back out to you. “I wouldn’t be… opposed to trying this. Whatever this is.”

You reached out to take it, but he pulled it away. “But, no more sneaking glances across camp when you want to draw me. I would be delighted to model for you again, in any pose your sweet heart can concoct.” He held the book out again. “Deal?”

You grabbed onto the book, finally relaxing as you smiled. “Deal.”

---

Tag List:

@satelliteapotheosis @hypopxia @mjmygd @flsalazar @thedevilssinner @marina-and-the-memes @softempest @rebeccasship @pinkishredlemonade @faeoran

[jinogasux-fr]

Santae banned me without telling me why and won't unban me unless I send them my photo ID

Hey guys sorry for not posting in… forever? I just suck at social media lol. But you may have seen that I've reblogged some posts that advertise Santae in the past, but please disregard all that. I've since deleted those posts after learning how the site is managed and, after what happened to me a few days ago, I feel as though I should go public about this. Because boy did I just get fucked over.

Anyway, yeah, what it says in the title. On October 24th, around 10am EST, I was restocking my user shop when the entire webpage went white. I couldn't access the site at all and, when I tried to look for the Discord on my server list, it wasn't there. I knew what this had meant. I got banned from both the game, and the Discord - this is important to keep in mind for later.

I didn't receive any Discord DM or email notification about my ban, so after asking a mod what their support email was (and yes, I later verified that this is indeed their legitimate support email), I sent them this:

After a few hours, I get this back in response:

There's so much I'm confused about here. I think the one that screams out the most is that they're asking me to show them my photo ID so I can get unbanned. Absolutely not. I refuse to do this. This poses a massive security and privacy risk. They straight up banned my account, gave this half-baked explanation, and told me I need to send my personal information or... I stay banned?

Let me make something clear: The only personal thing they have on file about this account is the email address that I created my account with, which I've also used to contact them. My real name, date of birth, anything of that nature would not be connected because this was not asked for during account creation, therefore this wouldn't actually prove I'm the account holder. Theoretically speaking, I could show them any ID in the world and for all they know, that's my real information, because they have nothing else to go off of. They even say as much in their privacy page.

Secondly, "account has been compromised"? What does that mean? I think anyone's interpretation of this would be that my account got hacked. But if my account got hacked, why wasn't I informed of this? I had to reach out to support, they did not reach out to me first. That means my password, which I may share across other sites, would have been known to someone else and thus I should've been warned of this immediately, not roughly 5 hours after the fact.

Thirdly, what, was my Discord "compromised" too? If an automated system had flagged my account, does that system somehow interact with a Discord bot so they ban a user on both at the same time? How does that work? That makes no sense as to why they'd ban me on both the game and the Discord for something like this, which is why I'm calling bullshit.

Let me tell you what I think happened.

Recently, Santae has been in some really hot water with connections revealing their relation to an older petsite, Lurapets, which has a history of scamming and artist mistreatment, as well as proof coming out of them using AI art for their NPC art. You can find these posts on the @santae-salt blog if you want to see for yourself, but I'm also linking them throughout this post.

Once the post about them being directly related to Lurapets was released, several users that the Santae staff thought might be involved in the creation of the post got banned. As it turns out, I was banned at the same time as these users.

After speaking with the @santae-salt admin, we are both of the belief that I, a regular user, got caught up in this mess because they're assuming I'm an alt account of someone else and staff demanded to see my ID because they didn't think I was a different person. It may turn out to be wrong, and yeah that sounds a bit far-fetched, sure, but really, what else can I go off of here?? Santae staff has given me a very questionable and refutable explanation as to why I've been banned, and their radio silence after I refused to send them my ID is just making me believe they don't think I'm real. They don't want my photo ID to verify I'm the account holder, they want my photo ID to verify I'm not someone else.

This is unprecedented. I've never seen any petsite ask for a photo ID in any situation, and after asking around, not even those banned from Santae were asked for this. It's just me! This is an incredible attempted breach of privacy, and, with Santae now under doxxing allegations, I really don't feel confident they'd keep my personal information… well, personal.

I messaged back almost immediately after they responded to me where I told them I would not send my ID and I had asked if there were any other way I could verify myself to get my account unbanned. I've received no response so far, and after what I've learned, I feel like I'm not going to get one at all.

So, let this be a lesson to you: don't waste your time on Santae. You can be the most obedient player out there. You can abide by all their rules, be a nice and generous player, or just be minding your own business, but if they so much as think you're associated with someone who they think has wronged them, you'll be banned.

And they can't even be bothered to properly tell you why.

[sailorblossoms-rankane]

(Posting my threads on tumblr so I can talk to fellow Akane/Rankane enjoyers, part 3) (manga exclusive, I haven't seen the 80s anime)

One of the first things we learn about Akane is that she’s both violent and sweet. Both are true, and much can be said about her hair journey.

Akane’s violent side is immediately obvious while her sweet side is more apparent along the journey. She’s trusting and caring, even with people who have done nothing but wrong her (a mf will try to kill her and she’ll still be like “I feel sorry for them/I want to help them”)

Her sweet side is also introduced when she meets Ranma. She sees someone uncomfortable in an uncertain/awkward situation, and she’s the first to reach out and be welcoming.

Akane’s haircut is violent, brutal, and shocking. As shocking as Ranma entering her world. It happens during the first real fight Ranma has on page, and it's likely no coincidence. Something is off with long-haired Akane... with the cut, she enters Ranma’s world as her true self.

Akane’s long hair is tied to Akane trying to be like Kasumi: modest, calm, quiet. It’s Akane trying to be someone she’s not, because she wants to feel loved and wanted. If she likes a boy, she wants to be liked back (as opposed to disliked because she’s too "boyish")

When Akane crushes on the doc, that’s a girl used to being bothered and harassed by boys (boys who think “I can beat her into dating me”) fixating on a safe male figure because he makes her feel secure and cared for (literally treating her wounds)

(To contrast: Ranma being stronger isn’t “she must submit to me,” which is what was associated with a boy beating her... it's usually “I’m stronger so I want to look out for her/help her/protect her” and that part makes her feel secure and cared for)

Akane “changing herself” isn’t really about getting the doc to like her, but about Akane feeling judged and inadequate as her true "tomboy self," because even if she cuts her hair short she still likes being feminine… and she’s constantly told she’s not.

Just look at how she dresses. Other female characters might often wear pants (outside of the school uniform, Nabiki usually wears jeans and shorts for example) but Akane is rarely not wearing a cute little skirt or a dress. Calling her uncute pokes at a sore spot.

Changing herself doesn’t give her what she wants, it just reaffirms her insecurity (if you have to stop being yourself to feel accepted, are you really accepted?). When the doc says "short hair always did suit you better," it doesn’t make her happy because she doesn’t actually want him.

Part of why he’s safe is because he knows her just as she is and still never judges when others do. “Short hair always did suit you better" is also “you didn’t need to change yourself to be accepted, you were always fine just as you are.”

This is part of why she cries so hard and why afterward she’s immediately over him… she mourns what she felt and believed (and perhaps the effort it took, growing out a pixie is not for the weak lol) and is ready to turn the page. But the insecurity that sparked it all remains.

That Ranma preferring her short hair makes her smile is an early sign that he stirs something in her. It also says something important: he can tease and insult her all he wants, but he likes Akane just as she is

And that includes her violence. her anger and her fire. When Akane is upset and tries a cooler approach, Ranma won’t let her. he prefers Akane sending his ass flying than her ignoring him 100%

I think Ranma also likes Akane’s "specific brand" of violence, because everyone and their mom is violent here (including Nabiki… psychological violence if you will lol) and outside of challenges/battles he only seeks hers by teasing her, knowing how she’s going to react.

(everyone is a martial artist/violent but I think part of why Akane is clocked as more tomboy-ish is attitude. All the girls will use “their feminine charms,” even Ranma, but Akane will grab a fucker by the shirt, look at them in the eye and jut out her chin, and that's "masculine")

Akane wants to feel normal, she wants to be liked by the one she likes. she associates “you’re not normal” as a negative thing, as “you will be disliked”... even if Ranma means it as “Akane is tougher than a regular girl” (positive) that's not what she hears.

Kasumi means no harm, she knows Akane well and wants to look out for her. but that gives her words more impact, and Akane looks up to her as the ideal of femininity (she also only wears skirts and dresses) (Akane has likely heard this shit a lot too, she was cast as Romeo, etc)

Ranma knows he can be a jerk, but he genuinely doesn’t realize he's saying insensitive shit just when Akane is at her most sensitive... when she snaps, that’s her armor coming up to protect her heart (just like being a jerk can be armor for Ranma)

So Ranma hurts Akane's feelings without realizing (being a jerk is armor because his feelings are too big, too much for him, and he’s not ready to deal with them) but takes Akane's angry response as her hurting his feelings.

This causes the following pattern: Ranma “lifts Akane up,” telling her exactly what she needs to hear from him, soothing her insecurities… and then completely lets her down/disappoints her by telling her exactly what she doesn’t need to hear.

Look at Akane’s face. she could’ve accepted Ranma's apology and moved on. Instead, she’s vulnerable and ready to admit fault too... she’s touched by the idea of Ranma wanting to make up because he wants to be with her (but then he downplays it lol a word-class fumbler fr)

And... he doesn't realize he’s doing this! he doesn’t want to hurt her. whenever he realizes he hurt her he always wants to fix it, even if he doesn’t fully get what he did wrong or why Akane is mad and/or how to make it better.

But “lifting Akane up and then kicking her down” is the type of shit that makes Akane feel like she needs to protect her heart. In a way, Ranma’s armor (jerk) makes Akane’s come up and vice-versa, so neither can give in. It's part of why admitting feelings is very difficult

There’s also Ranma throwing easy “I love you’s” when he thinks it's a challenge with people he has no feelings for, but completely combusts when he realizes he said to the person he’s in love with. It’s too much for him and he’s not ready to admit it, so “he takes it back”

On Akane's side, she isn't unaffected by hearing the boy she loves confess and then "take it back"... even if she can be perceptive and understands Ranma’s shenanigans this sparks more insecurity (and then jealousy)

This contributes to Akane being quick to get angry & misunderstand certain situations, as she’s expecting Ranma to “let her down”/ has no confidence that he doesn’t want anyone else (besides Ranma being in “impossible not to misunderstand situations, for the bit”)

Akane being perceptive but her insecurities getting to her: she knows Ranma. She’s correct in her assessment that he fucked up and is hiding it. But doesn’t clock his deflection because damn, what if he actually wants someone else, what if they have something she doesn’t

But Akane always goes back to believing in him. Because even if he disappoints her, she understands that he's just not thinking, it's his ego, he doesn't mean it, the situation is too much for him to handle etc. And he never stops trying to make sure they’re on good terms.

Also, Ranma makes her feel safe and protected. She likes that he’s strong and never gives up. She knows she can count on him when it matters most (which is why she’s also his ride or die, goes both ways). It’s part of why when she’s jealous, she imagines Ranma protecting Nabiki.

It’s not something she thinks about consciously, but being the one Ranma wants to protect above everyone and all else is part of how Ranma shows his feelings for her, and on some level, she can tell… one of the first moments ranma makes her heart speed up is this

She likes that Ranma protects her and that she can count on him, but she never wants to be a burden or the reason he has to sacrifice something. just like how Ranma wants to protect her above all else, no one goes as far as she does for his sake (see also: the final arc)

Adding on the crush on the doc: just like this scene, it's likely that whenever Akane went to see him, her wounds weren't just physical. "I hate boys" is not something she means as she never treats anyone with hatred, but it's coming from a place of frustration/exhaustion.

Each daily challenge would be annoying by itself, but the repetitiveness of it all would wear her down. Note how she never goes "I hate boys" again after it stops. It's only just "I hate Ranma, specifically" because he hurt her... but she doesn't mean that either

Ranma's presence puts an end to those challenges, so he brings her peace in that sense. His world comes with craziness and dangers, but unlike the school challenges, this is something Akane chooses to face because she wants to support him.

Fighting annoying boys because you don't want to date them and fighting to support a loved one are completely different things. The former wears Akane down, while she's passionate about the latter. Just like how she counts on Ranma to protect her, she always wants to have his back.

[a-twistedheartslonging]

sometimes people will pay mc to clean/cook for them. all are using it as an excuse to get a scent on you

epel appreciates home cooked meals, don't bother paying for ingredients, just use ones from his farm. he'll keep you company prefect

jade and floyd (who has taken to calling you his Cleaner Shrimpy) jade thinks it's cute to see you cook, he would love to see you swap recipes, learn your taste, do add extra mushrooms to his food please. floyd enjoys following you around while you clean and trying to mess things up so you can't leave. he always make jokes about lockin' you in. what do you meeeeaaannnn you have other clients? maybe he should bite you so they learn to stay away :) maybe he should lock you up right here :)

azul? come work for the mostro lounge! clean up the mess after work, only work for him, he'll pay you double just don't go spend time with others. why don't you start with his office and finish up after people leave. is what he would say if he lost all words the moment he gets to close to you.

jack is just helping a friend >:( don't get the wrong idea just hang out in the room when you're done, he does enjoy your cooking, he knows you'll make a great little mate and a great parent too, he does always compliment the chef.

riddle and vil will critique you but ultimately try to get you to stay

malleus follows you around while you clean all of diasomnia. he pays extra just to not clean savanna claw

sebek yells how you should be grateful to work for malleus, silver ears every meal with a smile and always compliments you and how he can tell you worked hard on it, lilia tries to have a cook off with you. you didn't have the heart to roast his cooking.

leona is used to the women hunting, cooking is almost like that, he'll pay you double is you drop the dragon, he'll say come over to clean but you're just a body pillow lol

ruggie uses those big old puppy dog eyes to get to give him a home cooked meal for free ninety nine.

by the end of it rook just pays to watch you go about your business in his space. it's creepy. but he always does write a 20 page thank you letter complimenting your skills, unless he decides to keep you in his nest ofc

trey wants to swap recipes remarking something about "well fed children", deuce is enamored with your cooking and raves about you to his mom, ace pretends not to care but will just throw his laundry at you for you to do, he tried to pay you in a hoodie of his but you refused to accept. carter says he'll make a post promoting your innovative idea but is trying to keep it to himself, he doesn't want some other stinky guy on you >:(

idia is to shy to ask but ortho has needed this for a while

jamil is thrilled when you too can cook together and try each others food, and you give him a break from cleaning after parties? kalon thinks it's a sign you love him that you offered (and his parents are thrilled to have a human work for him) and jamil gets to hang out with the cute little human and take a break? god send

eventually whoever gets the most from you is OBVIOUSLY a status symbol and will be shown off.

anyway sorry if you didn't like this

Oh, I love this, I talked before about Yuu getting a little cleaning and cooking side business going since a lot of guys suck at taking care of themselves, especially the well-off ones that prob had a maid take care of everything.

Jamil and Ruggie both need breaks/some help. Leona and Kalim are working these poor boys to the bone. Ruggie is def hounding you for leftovers.

I can imagine Idia is kind of embarrassed and might clean up or hide a few things before you come over, doesn't want you thinking he's gross. I'm picturing him in his web looking flustered as he pretends to act all focused on the game his playing on his tablet but he's actually just watching you clean and fueling his house waifu/husbando fantasies.

I would def run a hoodie tax for doing laundry.

Rook is another that would hide the things he doesn't want you to see before you come over to clean, not that there's much for you to do. He's very neat and organized but always looks for an excuse to get you into his nest. Probably offers you extra to scent a few things for him.

Cleaning for Leona...you know those cats that lie on the bed when you're trying to change the sheets and nap on the fresh from the drier clothes? He diffidently does that. He totally keeps trying to get you to only work for him and lays on you so you can't leave, threatening to charge him overtime doesn't deter him in the slightest. He also sticks close when you're cooking, the man loves food and wants to be fed by hand by you.

Oh man, Mal, Silver, and Sebek are so grateful when you take care of the cooking. Seb refuses to admit it though. You really need to keep an eye on everything, or else Lilia will sneak something into what you're making.

With the trouble that Ace and Deuce cause you're probably called to their dorm often to clean up some mess they made.

You would definitely get a lot of extra work from the octo trio, if it's not their rooms you're taking care of then it's help with the lounge. The eels are big-time fans of your cooking, but neither will leave you alone when you are trying to clean, and it makes the jobs take a lot longer. Not too bad if you're charging by the hour at least.

[attentialkane]

Okay I went full circle and went back to drawing fanart, but honestly I cannot be bothered to draw unless it's something I'm hyperfixating on and DE is giving me brain worms.

I've been SERIOUSLY struggling with letting myself be consumed with another piece of media (we will not be talking about my almost decade long jse hyperfix thank you) because most of my current friends have really cool interests and I felt silly being so fixated on videogames so I kinda just shut off everything and tried to """"intellectualize""" more hoping that it would also translate into original art, but all it did was give me an almost year long artblock and zero inspiration for anything and many many many projects that I never finished (see the shop, all the ocs I just forgot about etc etc etc...) - and I think that is exactly where I went wrong, most of my passion projects despite being aus or fan related content have never lacked of deep meaning. ( See the mhau, which btw I'm going to revist in some way – as I told to a friend I'm not letting a 4 years long project rest to rot lol. It's probably gonna get turned into another original story, unrelated to jse and the other admins of the au out of respect.)

I'm trying to take in what this year has been artistically for me because as for personal growth it's a can of worms I don't want to open.

I think taking a break from fanart and posting art to do more irl art stuff did do me good for a while, but then I carried it on for too long and it did the exact opposite.

As for numbers go, I've had most of my hit posts (mostly qsmp on twt and tumblr and some mouthwashing stuff), which was super great for a bit until it quickly burnt out.

The thing with running art pages (I've made and deleted at least 10 art accounts, yes that is another mistake) is that it's almost impossible to have fanart and originak content coexist with the same engagment.

Anyways, still I feel like I still improved artistically and I finally let go of ibis paint to use csp, which has been great.

[storiesofsvu]

Decadent Desires Ch 2

Future Emily Prentiss x reader Warnings: language, alcohol consumption, sexual situations alluded to. Okay y'all were super interactive on the first chapter so I figured I'd give you an early chapter as a treat. Lol.

A full week had passed, another one full of overbearing work, handling the slight squabbling from the team while also dealing with constant badgering from the higher ups and Emily was over it. She scooped the final bite of linguine out of the pan, chewing it down while she moved the dish into the dishwasher thankful at least that she didn’t have to hand wash things tonight. It had been an annoying week and the bottle of wine on the counter had been calling her name since about two in the afternoon, the thought of an orgasm to relieve some stress on her mind from the moment she got home. However it wasn’t close enough to shower or bed time yet so the wine would have to do for now.

Emily refilled her glass, picked up her phone and opened the door to the patio, figuring at the very least she could enjoy the warm evening and actually get some fresh air after being cooped up in the office all week. Settling into one of the chairs she swiped open her phone and immediately had to resist the temptation to check her email, reminding herself she wouldn’t be so frustrated if she left work at work unless it was completely urgent. So she scrolled through a couple of social media apps, wasting time looking at pictures posted by friends, which in turn made her feel even more like she was missing out on something. She closed Instagram and her thumb hovered over the screen while she tried to figure out what to doom-scroll on next, finding herself staring at the little red apps Heather had installed. She took a breath, a large sip of wine and bit the bullet, opening the first one and she was pleasantly surprised she could scroll through a handful of profiles without setting one up for herself first.

‘Caitlin. 21.’

“Okay well you’re barely legal.” Emily muttered to herself, scrolling down further.

‘Steven. 32.’

A better age, but still a step in the wrong direction.

‘Kyla. 38.’

Better. But she could only see the main picture, age and location. Pulling her lip into her mouth she flicked around through a couple of pages until she found the how to tips and realized she would have to make a profile after all, even if it was just to see more information. She let out a huff, closing the app, hesitating only a minute before she opened up her text conversation with Heather.

‘Are you SURE this is a good idea?’

Her phone buzzed only a few seconds later.

‘The apps are fine. I’m assuming you haven’t even made a profile yet and it’s just pushing out what it thinks people want to see. You can curate your own experience once you put in your preferences.’

‘And if it still sucks?’

‘Oh come on, what’s the harm in one date? At the very least it’ll keep you entertained.’

‘Who said I’m not entertained?’

‘It’s Friday night and you’re texting me instead of being out somewhere.’

‘And you’re answering.’

‘I’m waiting for Rob to pull the car around; you just caught me at a convenient time.’  ‘Make a profile. There’s no harm in seeing what’s out there. You can blame me if it’s terrible.’

‘Add on a free lunch.’

‘Tell you what, this doesn’t work, I’ll bump it up to dinner and show you a couple of the discreet clubs around the city.’

‘Mark me down as intrigued. Deal.’

Emily let out a huff, swigging back a mouthful of wine before finally reopening the first app to start to put together her own profile. Maybe there really was a chance that this could work out.

*

Carly. 35.

Emily was almost late, one work call turning into another, turning into getting put on hold meant she didn’t have time to go change after work, arriving at Smoke and Mirrors still in her business casual. She was just in the nick of time and instantly found her date nestled into a cozy table on the patio overlooking the river, martini already in front of her.

It wasn’t necessarily that she slipped back into work mode, but her job did help her meet and interact with new people on a regular basis fairly easily. A warm smile and greeting, unsure how awkward something like a handshake would be considering the situation. A few rounds of drinks, a couple of split appetizers, and a decent enough time. While Carly could hold a perfectly good conversation and Emily could see them perhaps being friendly in the future, it wasn’t the right vibe. It certainly wasn’t helping that Emily could practically feel every set of eyes in the lounge on them throughout the night and that you didn’t have to be a profiler to put it together what kind of a situation was going on. It made Emily uncomfortable, like everyone was judging them, more specifically, her. If the two of them had been more friendly to each other right off the bat you might have been able to tell that it wasn’t a date, that they were colleagues or friends but that simply wasn’t the case. Her mind wandered to the thought that there was someone in the room that likely just assumed they were mother, daughter and that made her skin absolutely crawl and instantly ask if they could get the check. She at least felt a little bit better when Carly offered to split it, offering her a small smile that meant she was about on the same page.  

*

Alice. 36.

This time Emily gave herself more than enough time to get home, have a glass of wine to help her relax and change into something more date appropriate. Alice had recommended Fiola and Emily had simply gone along with it, not realizing just how high end it actually was, her eyes widening at the fact that a single cocktail could set you back twenty-five to almost thirty dollars much less the food menu. At the very least, it seemed like the restaurant’s lounge was the place to be for date night on a Thursday, couples scattered throughout the place in various levels of dress. She noticed something on the menu advertising it being the place to be prior to theatre events and their server asked if they were attending a show tonight.

Emily had a little bit more faith in this one, feeling more comfortable considering the setting, actually relaxing as she laughed over her very expensive drink. It didn’t take long for the conversation to roll around to what one did when not out on the town and she let it slip that she worked for the government, a few more carefully worded questions and Alice had enough to figure out she was a fed, excusing herself to use the bathroom. When the room started to clear and Emily realized the other woman’s purse was gone from the back of her chair she let out a soft groan, realizing she was definitely stuck with the pricey cheque.

*

Lily 31.

Emily knew going in this one could be risky based off age alone. Lily’s profile seemed like she did this full time and she already wasn’t sure about things by the time she set foot into 1798. Her suspicions were confirmed when her phone went off with an urgent call she had to take, letting out a sigh as she returned to the table explaining that she had to leave for work and likely wouldn’t be back for a few days at least. In return Lily let out a huff and a whine like she was a toddler, crossing her arms over her chest and demanded that Emily pay for a three course dinner and send her roses each day she was going to be gone since she had wasted her time. Emily outwardly laughed, saying drinks were the only thing she’d even agreed to have, much less pay for and left as fast as she came in.

*

Kimberly. 39.

This one got postponed immediately as a case kept them out of town longer than anticipated. They were still only chatting back and fourth on the app and Emily was venting about being the one in charge and how her team were agents and you’d think they could handle certain things themselves but apparently not. She woke up the next morning to find a couple of messages that insinuated Kimberly might have been doing other things for money that weren’t exactly legal and thought it wasn’t a good idea to get involved with a cop. After Emily sent a reply agreeing, the match disappeared.

*

Emma. 34.

This one started off slow, a match, Emily shot off a message and waited a while to hear back. She was pleasantly surprised when her phone pinged with the reply she’d been hoping to get for a few days. They got along wonderfully, everything seemed to be falling right into place, their opinions, expectations, they shared a handful of the same favourite movies, foods, for once it seemed like things would be perfect. Emily opened the app when she got home from work that night to ask her out for drinks that weekend to find that she’d been completely ghosted, unmatched and no way to find Emma again.

*

Kori. 40.

The second match that had gone off without a hitch and a plan to meet at Blue Duck Tavern that coming Thursday night. Emily arrived a little bit early thanks to a complete lack of traffic and figured she would just grab a drink at the bar while waiting. You could only imagine her confusion when she was tapped on the shoulder and turned around to see an older than middle aged man with a timid smile introducing himself, apologizing that he didn’t look like his pictures.

That one earned an eye roll and a ‘yeah, right’ before Emily was heading for the door.

*

The week had finally come to a close and Emily had dismissed the BAU shortly after lunch, telling the team to get out of there while they still had the chance and everyone was quick to leave the building, herself included. Construction rerouted her normal commute home and when she ended up in the same neighbourhood as Heather’s office her mind wandered back to how unsuccessful her past two weeks had been and before she even really realized it, she was pulling into the parking lot.

“I’m being serious Heather, it’s fucking terrible.” She groaned, dropping down into a chair across from the other woman’s desk. “This is almost as bad as dating men was.”

“From what I heard some of them are men.” Heather replied with a tease and Emily shot her a glare.

“I just thought this would be easier.”

“Finding the right fit is the hard part, it’ll smooth over once you do.” Heather flipped the book in front of her closed, standing from her chair and crossing over to the liquor cart, filling up two glasses of scotch.

“I didn’t want to deal with the hard part though.” Emily continued to mope, thanking her for the glass.

“Drink. You’re too pent up.” She settled back at her desk, “you really do need to get laid.”

“Don’t you think I’m trying!?” She sucked back a mouthful of the liquor, stewing in her thoughts for a moment. “Please tell me you’re having more success in this than I am, how’s your bartender doing?”

“Are you kidding?” Heather laughed, “you saw her. She’s practically pathetic. She was pretty enough, but my god the level of insecurity? The constant whining and worrying? Don’t get me wrong, I love a good brat but there was no way she wouldn’t have been crying on my doorstep begging me to leave my husband in a week’s time.”

“Have you had that happen before?” Her eyes widened at the sheer thought of it as Heather nodded.

“Best piece of advice I can give you, don’t let them know where you live. Stick to hotels.”

“Noted.”

“What are you having the biggest trouble with? Maybe I can help.”

Emily sighed softly, swirling her cup as she stared into it, sorting through the string of failed dates, “honestly I don’t even know. Maybe I just need to play around with the age range…. Would probably help to bump it up a little it.”

“Anything under thirty-five does usually end up getting messy.”

“I want someone who has their life a little bit more put together; you know?”

“Mmhmm.” Heather replied over the rim of her drink, “you need to make sure that this isn’t their only source of income, that they have something else going on to fill their time and bank account up. Maybe someone who has an actual partner.”

“I don’t know about that.” Her nose crinkled, “would feel wrong. But someone who has a full time job and wouldn’t be completely dependant on me certainly would be nice. I don’t have the time or energy for that.”

“You need a gorgeous, ambitious girl who knows how to be discreet in public and likes get her brains fucked out in private.”

“Exactly.” She laughed, taking another sip of her drink as Heather tilted her phone screen towards her, hitting a couple of buttons before returning her attention to the other woman, “you know, if you ever think of changing career paths…”

“Become a matchmaker for sugar babies?” She chuckled, “there would likely be a market for that, maybe after retirement.”

Emily laughed, shaking her head as she watched the wheels start turning in the other woman’s head. She heard a brief knock on the door behind her before it swung open,

“I didn’t realize you needed this by the end of the day, sorry.” You swung through the office, coming to perch on the side of Heather’s desk as you handed her the file.

“It’s alright, it slipped my mind too.” Heather replied as she opened the file, skimming through it.

Her eyes flicked over to Emily briefly, watching the way her gaze drifted from the designer heels on your feet all the way to the necklace laying against your collarbone. You were dressed professionally yet incredibly stylish, dark pencil skirt, a peach sleeveless blouse tucked into it, blazer no doubt laying over the back of your desk chair. A delicate silver watch around one wrist, perfectly manicured nails and eyes that were suddenly set on her.

“Hi, sorry to interrupt. You’re FBI, right? Prentiss?” Your words jolted her out of her trance and she caught herself scrambling over the fact that you knew her name, wondering if she’d left her ID badge on after work.

“Well now I feel bad.” She laughed.

“Don’t.” Heather cut in, her eyes back on the file, “she just does checks on anyone that comes in here.”

“Ignore her.” You replied with a grin, sticking out your hand to introduce yourself, “y/n Walton.”

“And you’re what? Secret security?” Emily asked with a tease and you laughed as Heather tucked the file away into her desk.

“She’s the head of my PR team, does incredible work.”

“I should hope so, you practically groomed me into the assistant you needed.”

“I did not—” Heather scoffed, “you’re a horrible tease.”

“I do my job and then some, and I do it phenomenally.” You showboated for a second, grinning over at Emily before looking up at your boss, “which is why I’m double checking it’s still okay to duck out early tonight?”

“Why?” The other woman asked with a smirk, “you have a hot date or something?”

“Heather, please.” You barked out a laugh, “you’re a slave driver! You know I don’t have time to properly date with my schedule.”

“So why the need to play hooky?”

“A new Netflix special drops at six and I have a frozen pizza, a pint of ice cream and that bottle of Bordeaux screaming my name.” You slipped off the side of her desk, “besides, you still owe me the OT for putting together the gift baskets and flower arrangements for Senator Reeves. You do remember you have an assistant for that kind of shit, right?”

“Oh but sweetheart you’re so much better than them.”

“I know.” You grinned at her, “which is why I’m leaving early.”

She laughed, shaking her head, “keep your phone on.”

“Of course.” You turned, smiling across at Emily, “nice to meet you Agent Prentiss.”

Emily couldn’t help the way her eyes followed you out of the room before she finally turned back to Heather who was grinning like the cheshire cat over the rim of her drink.

“What?” She asked, feigning confusion and Heather chuckled.

“You liked what you saw.”

“Hard not to.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you drool like that over someone before.”

“I—I was not drooling!”

“Maybe not from your mouth.”

“Heather!” Emily felt her cheeks begin to burn, attempting to hide behind her glass as the brunette let out a dark laugh.

“Here, at least take her phone number.” Picking up a pen she scrawled the digits out onto a post it note, handing it to Emily.

“I don’t have time to date, you know this.”

“And you heard her.” She gestured toward the door, “she doesn’t either. You wanted someone with their head on straight who is comfortable occupying themselves when you’re working. I make her schedule; I guarantee she works as many hours as you do. Besides… she’s done this a couple of times before.”

That caught Emily’s attention, looking up from the yellow paper in her hand with her brow furrowed, “really?”

“Yes.”

“With women?”

“She needed some help through college, I was bored.” Heather shrugged, “worked out for both of us and now she’s on my actual payroll.”

“She’s been working for you that long?”

“Mmhm.” Heather nodded.

“So you really did groom her?” Emily teased and it was Heather’s turn to scoff, rolling her eyes.

“Just call her.” She half glared, “god knows she could use a night out, and one where she doesn’t have to rub elbows with politicians the entire time. She deserves a break and likely needs a good fuck, both of which I’m sure you can give to her.”

“We really don’t need to have that conversation.” She laughed, tucking the post it into her pocket, “but thank you. I will think about it.”

“Don’t think too long.” Heather smiled as Emily got up from her chair, scooping up her jacket from the back of it. “If you come back here in two weeks complaining about the shitty apps and you haven’t called her yet I’ll start feeding her lies about how much you suck.”

“Okay, okay.” She laughed, “I’ll call. And I’ll see you later.”

_________________

@mickey-gomez @momlifebehard @daddy-heather-dunbar @maybe-a-humanbean @rustyzebra @leftoverenvy @kades95 @dextur @supercriminalbean @emilyprentisssluvr @lex13cm @zizzlekwum @emobabeyy @riveramorylunar @scorpsik @onmykneesformarvel @inlovewithemilyprentiss @regalmilfs4me @ara-a-bird @five-bi-five-mind @inlovewithmiddleagewomen @hotchs-bitch @ollysmulti @kmc1989 @irishavengersassemble @hopedoesntknow @venromanova @waitaminuteashh @noahrex @imlike-so-gaydude @wittygutsy @cx-emerald-cx @momily @nilaues @borinxnovak @soverign @v3nusxsky @blackbird-brewster @mccdreamys-writes @l4yne @obsessedwjill @supercorpstan97 @asolitaryrose3 @honeyycatt @trauma-factory @lisqueen

[msklassickilla]

Tryna Do solo sikoa | a short fic

Summary: As an overnight cashier at CVS, the reader forms an unexpected connection with Solo through their late-night run-ins. Their playful flirtation evolves into deeper conversations about dreams and vulnerabilities, leaving both questioning the tension between them and where it might lead.

Pairing: Solo Sikoa x Black Reader

AN: Just a short fic but kind of long ass hell for one post featuring Solo. I don't think I've ever done a strictly reader fic so this was a challenge- a fun one though. Basically, instead of working on important shit, I do shit like this instead. So, I hope you enjoy what I created from my slacking off LOL

Warnings: None.

Disclaimer: This work of art is fictional in nature including the original characters created by me. I do not own any of the existing characters or lyrics from songs referenced in this story. All rights belong to their respective owners with the exception of my original characters. This work is purely for entertainment purposes and is not intended to cause harm.

Night 1 ⋆⭒˚.⋆

You were the late-night cashier at the 24-hour CVS store. It was usually an easy gig. Not too many customers came in after 10 p.m. The time on your Apple Watch read 11:45 a.m. when the door chimed, signaling the arrival of a new customer. You didn’t pay him much attention at first, flipping through the pages of the magazine in your hands.

But then you heard it—his voice. “Aye, where y’all bandages at? Y’all done moved stuff around up in here?”

You thought to yourself, I know that voice from somewhere.

You looked up from your magazine to find a man in a black Nike sweatsuit standing in the aisle, his brown eyes locking onto yours. Something about him felt familiar, but you couldn’t quite place where you’d seen him before.

“Yea, the bandages are in aisle 22, on the left-hand side,” you replied, returning your attention to the magazine.

“Cool. If I can’t find them, I’m gon’ holla at you. Be listenin’ instead of not working,” he teased, a smirk playing on his lips.

You rolled your eyes, feeling the stir of recognition. You tried to place him, running through possible names in your head.

“Aye, I can’t find them!” The man called out.

Sighing, you grabbed your keys, looking directly into the camera so your manager, James, knew to keep an eye out. You headed toward the aisle, already knowing this guy was on the wrong one.

There he was, standing in aisle 20, surrounded by medicine. You shot him a pointed look. “Boy, I said aisle 22, not 20. Add, not subtract.” The sass in your voice was unmistakable.

He smirked again. “You not professional at all. Where your manager at? I need to make a complaint before I leave.”

You scrunched your face. “Not you a whole caramel Ken. It’s too late for this nonsense. Let’s move to 22, shall we?”

He raised his hands in mock surrender. “Lead the way, but I still need to speak to the manager, little girl.”

You led him to aisle 22 and pointed at the bandages. “See? It wasn’t that hard if you followed directions the first time.”

He sucked his teeth and began browsing the bandages. You lingered for a moment, letting your gaze drift over his face. He was cute, in a boyish kind of way.

“You gon’ help me pick these bandages or what?” He asked, his brown eyes locking with yours, a challenge in his gaze.

You waved him off. “That ain’t in my job description, homeboy. See you at the front.”

“Call your manager while you’re up there,” he called after you, a grin tugging at his lips.

You ignored him, already knowing James wasn’t going to tell you how to do your job. You’d been there longer than him, after all.

Back at the front counter, you flipped through your magazine, but it didn’t stay visible long. The man—familiar yet unknown still—came up and plopped his items down, right on top of it.

You looked up, shooting him a withering glance. “You so damn rude. You see all this counter space, and you put it right here?” You motioned to the magazine.

He returned your look, unbothered. “Hell yea. But you rude as hell so I'm giving what I'm getting. And no, I didn’t see all that counter space, but I saw that magazine you ain’t supposed to be looking at while you working.”

You sighed heavily, resisting the urge to roll your eyes. “You can’t use the self-checkout?”

“Nah. It seem like you need some work to do,” he said, a playful gleam in his eyes.

He was definitely getting under your skin now, but in a way you didn’t quite mind. “You just like my cousin. Want everybody to be on your time. The world don't revolve around you or his ass."

He said the magic words, and you leaned in closer, your interest piqued. “Hol' up. Don’t I know you?”

Solo lifted an eyebrow, a slight grin pulling at the corners of his lips. “Shit. I don’t know. Do you?”

You narrowed your eyes, turning your head slightly. Then it clicked. “Oh, I know who the hell you are. Solo. No wonder you in here causing chaos and confusion.”

Solo’s eyes widened, and a grin spread across his face. “Damn, you got a good memory. You got me, little girl.”

You crossed your arms and smirked. “Yeah, I knew your voice sounded familiar when you came in here being loud. I can’t believe you up in here actin’ a fool.”

He chuckled, a cocky smirk on display. “I see you got jokes. What you know about me, though?”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help but smile. “You’re Solo, right? From the wrestling thing. You’ve got that whole ‘tough guy’ thing going on. Looked like you could use a little humility though.” You gave him a once-over, your eyes lingering for just a second longer than you meant to.

He chuckled, clearly enjoying your response. “And what about you? You workin’ late-night shifts, but you clearly got more going on. You ain’t like these other people I usually see in these type places.” His eyes scanned your form, then met yours again. “You different.”

You raised an eyebrow. “I’m just here trying to get my check like everyone else.” You leaned against the counter, your magazine now forgotten. “But if you’re gonna stand here trying to flirt with me, you better know how to keep up.”

“Flirting? Nah, I’m just trying to see what’s good with you,” he said, giving you a playful wink. “I don’t get distracted easily, but you got me curious.”

The words hung in the air for a moment, the playful tension between you two apparent. You caught his gaze again, and for the first time, you felt something shift—something deeper than just annoyance at the interruption.

But you quickly shook it off. “Well, you’re gonna need to do more than that if you wanna get my attention, Solo.”

Solo leaned in a little closer, lowering his voice just enough for you to catch the sincerity beneath his teasing. “I’m just tryin’ to get to know you, that’s all.”

You narrowed your eyes, not sure if you believed him, but something about the way he said it made your heart skip a beat. “You’re a little forward for a man I just met.”

He held his hands up. “Alright, alright. I’m just sayin’, you’re a woman whose confident in herself, and that’s rare.”

You didn’t know how to respond to that, so you grabbed the items off the counter and began ringing them up. “Your total’s $6.98.”

Solo swiped his credit card, the chip beeping as it processed. “I’ll see you around, little girl,” he said with a smirk.

You tossed his bandages along with his receipt in the bag without a second glance. “Yeah, we’ll see about that, little boy.”

He grinned one last time before grabbing his bag and heading for the door. “Don’t be missin’ me too much.”

You shook your head as he walked out, the echo of his voice still lingering in your mind. "I don't know if I’ll ever miss you," you muttered to yourself, but deep down, you weren’t so sure anymore.

Night 2 ⋆⭒˚.⋆

It had been a quiet night, which wasn’t exactly a bad thing. You and your coworker Jordan were working together, but the store was pretty empty. The clock read 1:00 a.m., and you were in the snack aisle, restocking chips and candy, while Jordan took care of the cleaning supplies on the other side of the store. It was the kind of shift where you could drift into autopilot—nothing exciting, just getting through the hours until your break.

You glanced around, the aisles stretching out in front of you. The soft hum of the refrigerator section was the only sound besides the occasional shuffle of Jordan’s movements as he worked. You didn’t mind it. Sometimes, it was nice to have a break from the usual chaos of the store.

But that peace didn’t last long. The door chimes rang out, cutting through the stillness, and you didn’t look up right away. It was a common sound at this hour, another person popping in to grab something late.

And then you heard it. That familiar voice that made you roll your eyes even before you saw him.

“Damn, y’all keep moving stuff around up in here?” The voice was unmistakable, even before you saw him.

You didn’t even have to look to know who it was. You shook your head, trying to hide your grin. Solo. It had been a few nights since the night you two made acquaintances.

You continued stocking the shelf for a moment, trying to act like you didn’t already know he was there. You could feel his presence in the air as he got closer, and you couldn’t help but wonder why he seemed to always show up when you were working. Still, you couldn’t deny it—there was something about him that made the late-night shifts a little less boring.

Finally, you turned around, locking eyes with him as he came into view. He was wearing a gray Nike sweatsuit this time, looking relaxed but still somehow stylish in the way only Solo could manage. His brown eyes were already fixed on you, and that signature smirk of his was right where it belonged.

“Ran out of bandages that fast?” you called out, trying to keep the tone light, even though your heart did a little flip when you saw him.

Solo’s grin only widened as he strolled up to you, his hands shoved in his pockets. “Nah, I don’t need bandages this time. I came for something else.” He glanced around the aisle, his eyes scanning the shelves. “They changed everything around in here, though. I can’t find what I need.”

You raised an eyebrow, folding your arms over your chest. “Yeah, they decided to rearrange everything instead of only some things. Good luck finding what you looking for.”

Solo sighed dramatically, making a show of looking around. “Man, I thought I was just coming in for some snacks, but now I feel like I need a treasure map to find anything. I need some Gatorade and maybe a snack or two. You think you could help me find ‘em?”

You shot him a sideways glance. “You need my help now? Look, I’ll show you, but you better not be trying to make this my problem every time you come up in here.”

“Why not? It ain’t like you got shit to do, not that you would do it anyway,” Solo teased, clearly enjoying this more than he let on.

With a shrug, you grabbed your cart and started toward the drink aisle. “Fine, sir.  I’ll show you, but I’m not responsible for your inability to find stuff.”

Solo followed behind you, a grin tugging at the corners of his lips. “Nah, I’m just trying to find the quickest route to get my late-night fix. You know how it is.”

You walked down the aisle, pointing out the rows of drinks. “There’s your Gatorade. And as for snacks, you might want to head to aisle 15. They put all the chips over there now.”

He let out a low whistle as he glanced over the new layout. “Man, they really outdid themselves with this little setup.” He stopped by the Gatorade section and picked up three bottles, tossing them into his basket. “I wasn’t expecting a whole adventure to get something to drink, but I’m not complaining. At least I’m getting my steps in tonight.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help the smile that threatened to expose your enjoyment of his antics. “You know, you could use the self-checkout this time. Make this quicker for both of us.”

Solo shot you a playful look. “Nah, I like getting the full experience. Besides, it’s more fun to have you around. You something different. Not what I was expecting to find up in here.”

You glanced at him, wondering what he meant by that. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

He chuckled, grabbing a bag of chips off the shelf. “I don’t know. Just saying you... different. You don’t act like you just here to get by. You just got that vibe.”

You raised an eyebrow. “You real good at assuming things about people.”

He shrugged, casually tossing the chips into his basket. “Maybe. But I’m usually right.” He gave you a knowing look. “You got bigger things in mind than working a late shift at CVS, right?”

You took a second, trying to figure out how to respond. “I’m just here to do my job. I’m not trying to change the world or anything.” You shot him a playful look. “You just here for snacks or you got a deeper mission tonight?”

Solo smiled, his expression softening just a little. “I’m here for whatever keeps me interested, and right now, it’s you. You make this trip a lot more entertaining.”

You couldn’t hide your amusement at his persistence. “Alright, alright. Let’s get you checked out before you try to flatter me into giving you this treatment all the time.”

With a final smile, he followed you to the counter. You rang up his Gatorade and chips, keeping things casual.

Solo swiped his credit card smoothly, and you handed him his bag, making sure to take your time. “Your total’s $19.89.”

“Thank you, lit- I mean miss lady,” he said, his voice low but teasing as he grabbed the bag and his change.

You shot him a look as you finished up. “Yeah, sure. I’ll be here, same time tomorrow. You know, just workin’ my shift while you’re out there living your best life.”

He chuckled, his gaze lingering on you just a moment longer than necessary. “I don’t mind. I like knowing where to find you.”

With a final wink, he turned toward the door, the soft chime ringing as he stepped out into the night.

You couldn’t help but watch him leave, that familiar flutter returning to your chest.

Jordan had finished his aisle and was heading toward the back when he noticed you standing by the counter, still staring after Solo. “You okay?”

You blinked, quickly snapping out of your thoughts. “Yeah. Just another customer.”

Jordan gave you a knowing look but didn’t press. “Sure. If you say so.”

You didn’t respond. Instead, you grabbed the next item from the cart and focused on your work, trying to shake the lingering feeling of Solo’s presence. But as the night wore on, you couldn’t shake the feeling that this was only just beginning- of something.

Night 3 ⋆⭒˚.⋆

It was just past 2 a.m. on another quiet night on the job. You were alone behind the register while your manager, James, was on his smoke break. He was always on a smoke break, but you didn’t mind because he left you alone to do your own thing. The store was mostly empty, aside from a few late-night stragglers who came in sporadically, so you had plenty of time to catch up on the little things that always got pushed to the back burner during busier shifts. You slipped your earphones in, cranking up the volume to block out the silence of the store and get into the rhythm of your work.

The song that came on was "Whatcha Need" by SWV. It was one of those tracks you couldn’t help but move to, no matter how much you tried to focus on the task at hand. You let your body flow with the beat, absentmindedly dancing as you stocked the last of the items around the registers. You had your eyes on the shelves, humming along, not noticing the person who had entered the store.

Solo.

You didn’t hear him approach, too lost in the music and your own groove. But when he saw you, he couldn’t help but stop and watch for a moment, clearly amused by what he was seeing. There was something about the way you moved—effortless, carefree—that caught his attention.

He wasn’t sure how long he’d been standing there, but when you spun to place an item on the shelf, he took the opportunity to sneak up behind you. Without a word, he reached forward and pulled one of your earphones out.

You jumped slightly, caught off guard by the sudden contact. But when you saw who it was, you immediately relaxed. Solo stood there, an amused grin on his face as he looked you up and down.

“I see you. You working with something, something,” he said, his voice low. “I didn’t know I was walkin’ into Club CVS though. Y’all must only do this on Wet Wednesdays.”

You rolled your eyes but laughed. “I wasn’t expecting company, so I figured I might as well enjoy myself. What, you jealous?”

Solo raised an eyebrow, taking a slow step closer. “Jealous? Nah, I’m just admiring the view.” He glanced down at the earphone in his hand. “You got good taste in music though.”

You shrugged, pulling the other earphone out of your ear. “You know, SWV never gets old. Gets you right every time. Good for late nights, know what I mean?”

He nodded, still grinning. “I hear that. But you don’t mind me cutting in on your music, do you?” He gestured between the two of you, clearly more focused on you than anything else in the store.

You leaned against the counter, looking at him with a mixture of curiosity and wariness. “Well, I guess I’ll make an exception for you. You don’t usually stop in for a chat.”

Solo tilted his head, his expression softening just slightly. “Maybe I like the vibe here. It’s different, you know? I don’t usually get to see people just bein’ themselves like this. No pressure, no show.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Is that what this is to you? Just a show?”

He laughed, shaking his head. “Nah, not at all. Just real talk. You seem like you know who you are, and I respect that.” He took a step closer to you, the lively energy between you two shifting into something a little deeper.

You paused for a moment, considering his words. Then you let out a sigh. “I mean, yeah. I guess I do know who I am. Or at least, I’m working on it.”

Solo crossed his arms, his gaze softening. “What’s that supposed to mean? You know what you want?”

You looked down for a second, gathering your thoughts. “Well, yeah. I mean, I’ve got big dreams. I want to be a stylist one day. Maybe work with celebrities, you know? I’ve always had a passion for fashion, and I want to turn that into something real. But...” You trailed off, unsure whether you wanted to say more. “Sometimes it feels like it’s just a dream, you know? Like... like I’m stuck here and it’s never gonna happen.”

Solo’s expression shifted, his eyes narrowing thoughtfully. He took a slow breath before speaking. “I get that. I’ve been where you are.” He paused, the words seeming to weigh on him for a moment. “I’m in wrestling, right? And I’ve had my fair share of people telling me it’s a dream—telling me it’s too much or too risky. And a lot of times, I felt like I was never gonna make it. But... here I am.”

He gave a small, almost imperceptible shrug, but the sincerity in his voice was evident. “It’s not easy. People can’t see the work that goes into it. They see the glitz and the glam, but not the struggle. But the thing is, if you want something bad enough, you’ll make it happen. You just have to trust that it’s all part of the journey.”

You watched him closely, feeling like his words struck a chord deep inside. You didn’t say anything at first, just letting the silence settle around you. The sound of the store was quiet, just the hum of the lights and the faint noise of the parking lot outside.

Solo finally broke the silence. “I don’t know about you, but I think you’ve got the drive to make it. You’re here doing your thing, not letting anyone tell you what you can or can’t do.”

You couldn’t help but smile, a little bit surprised by his honesty. “I appreciate that,” you said softly. “Really. It’s... good to hear that from someone who actually gets it.”

He gave you a small, encouraging smile. “I got you. And hey, I’ll be around. I don’t think you’ll be stuck here forever.” His voice softened, like he meant it. “You’ll get there.”

You nodded, feeling something shift between you two. “Thanks, Solo. I needed that.”

He didn’t respond right away, just gave a small nod of understanding. The moment lingered before he finally spoke up again.

“Well, I don’t need you to help me find something tonight, so I’ll let you get back to work.” He turned to walk toward the door, but before he stepped outside, he glanced back at you one last time. “But don’t forget what I said. I’ll see you around.”

You watched him leave, the weight of his words lingering in the air long after he was gone. It wasn’t just another random interaction. This one felt different—like it left a mark, an impression on you that wasn’t going to fade anytime soon.

Night 4 ⋆⭒˚.⋆

It was 3 a.m., and the store was completely empty. The silence was almost soothing, a rare reprieve from the usual hustle of early morning customers after a night of partying. You were behind the register, your mind wandering as you absentmindedly flipped through your sketchbook, the pencil gliding over the pages. You weren't working on anything in particular—just letting your hand move freely, creating something that wasn’t bound by the rules of the store or your job. The quiet was a welcome escape. It gave you room to breathe, to imagine, to create.

James, your manager, was outside taking his smoke break, leaving you to hold down the fort alone. The few customers that came in barely spent any time browsing, so you were left to manage the store by yourself, using the time to get lost in the pages of your sketchbook. The soft flick of the pencil on the page was the only sound in the store, and it brought a sense of calm, a peaceful rhythm that you relished in the middle of your shift.

The door chimed suddenly, cutting through the silence, but you didn’t look up at first. Another late-night shopper, you thought, distracted by your drawing. But then, you heard the familiar sound of footsteps that were too confident to belong to just anyone.

You looked up, half-expecting the usual customer. But when you saw him, you stopped mid-stroke. Him.

Tonight, he was dressed differently—gone was his usual sweatsuit. Instead, he wore a black leather jacket, over a baby blue Ralph Lauren Polo shirt, and creased denim jeans that matched his style outside the ring perfectly. There was a noticeable shift in the way he carried himself tonight. His movements were slower, almost as if the weight of the night had caught up with him. You immediately recognized the unsteady rhythm of someone who’d been drinking.

You didn’t immediately react, unsure of how to handle this new version of him. But when he met your gaze, a grin spread across his face, and there was a softness in his eyes that made you pause.

“Well, well, well... something told me I’d find yo’ pretty ass here,” he said, his voice a little rough, but there was still that all in jest tone to it.

You took your pencil from the paper and set your sketchbook down, giving him a half-smile. “Of course. However, you should be home sleeping off whatever it is that's got you leaning like that.”

Solo chuckled, his smile widening as he moved closer to the counter. He didn’t seem to mind his slightly swaying gait as he leaned casually against the register, his eyes not leaving yours. “Yeah, well... I wasn’t planning on coming in here, but now that I’m here, I could use some company,” he said, the all in jest tone still present but layered with something deeper. “Seems like you’re the only one still up.”

You folded your arms, leaning against the counter yourself, studying him carefully. The usual cocky Solo was still there, but there was an undeniable vulnerability to him tonight. His voice had softened, his eyes lacked the usual confidence they carried, and something about his posture made him seem more... human.

“You’re not making much sense tonight, are you?” you laughed, trying to keep the mood light, but a part of you was intrigued by this more laid-back, open version of him.

He smiled sheepishly, running a hand through his hair. His posture had become a bit more slouched, and his eyes dropped for a moment, as though lost in thought before returning to meet yours. “I might’ve had a little too much fun tonight,” he admitted, sounding a little embarrassed. “But that’s why I’m here. To get some air. And... to talk.”

You tilted your head slightly, studying him with a little more curiosity. “It’s pretty late for a chat, don’t you think?”

Solo took a step closer, and this time there was no joking in his eyes. His expression was sincere, almost vulnerable in a way that made your pulse quicken. “Actually, I think you’re exactly the person I want to talk to,” he said, his voice a little quieter, almost hesitant. “You’ve always had this way about you. Like you don’t have to be anything for anyone. You just... do your thing.”

You were caught off guard by the sincerity of his words. This wasn’t the same impish, cocky Solo you’d seen before. There was a weight to his voice, a softness to his gaze that made him seem... more real, more approachable.

He tilted his head slightly, his eyes searching yours with an intensity you hadn’t seen from him before. “How about we get out of here for a bit? Let me take you somewhere. Just the two of us. No distractions. I could really use someone to talk to.”

You hesitated, glancing around the empty store. You hadn’t planned on stepping away, but the weight of the shift had been heavy, and his presence, though unexpected, felt oddly comforting. You’d never seen him like this, and you were intrigued. After a beat, you nodded. “Alright. I’m going to take my lunch. Let me just tell my manager James,” you said, motioning toward the door.

Solo nodded, a faint smile returning to his face. “I’ll wait here.”

You walked to the back, finding James standing by the door, his cigarette dangling lazily between his fingers. “Hey, I’m taking my lunch. I’m just going to sit in my car for a bit,” you said, not bothering to explain too much.

James barely glanced up; his attention fixed on his phone. “Go ahead. You deserve it.”

You nodded and returned to the front, where Solo was waiting. He was standing by the door, but as soon as you appeared, he straightened up and smiled at you. The usual cocky swagger was still there, but there was something more... vulnerable in the way he stood.

You stepped outside into the cool night air. The city was quiet around you, just the distant hum of traffic and the occasional sound of someone walking by. The weight of the night felt different now, heavier in a way that made your heart race. Solo followed you toward your car, his slow but deliberate steps matching yours.

Once inside, you started the engine, letting the car warm up before glancing at him. Solo slid into the passenger seat beside you, his presence filling the space. He was still close, but now there was no need for words. You could feel the shift between the two of you—the playful banter was gone, replaced by something with depth, more personal.

“Thanks for this,” Solo said softly, his voice unexpectedly sincere. “I know you probably didn’t plan on company, but I just... felt like talking to you.”

You glanced over at him, noticing the way his gaze softened, the vulnerability in his eyes a sharp contrast to the confident man who had walked into the store earlier that week. “Yeah, well, I’m here,” you said, the words heavier than you expected. “So, what’s on your mind?”

Solo leaned back in his seat, exhaling a long breath as he stared out the window. “I don’t know... It’s just sometimes it all gets to be too much. You know? The wrestling thing, the people. Everyone’s got their opinions, but nobody sees the real me. They don’t get it.”

You nodded slowly, understanding more than he realized. “I get that. It’s like people see you for what they want, not for who you really are.”

Solo turned toward you, his eyes soft and searching, as if he was trying to figure out what you were thinking. “Yeah. It’s like I’m just a character to them. But... you? You’re real. You don’t play games. That’s why I like talking to you.”

Your breath caught in your chest as you met his gaze. The words were heavy, more meaningful than anything you’d shared with him before. His closeness felt different tonight—tangible, almost magnetic.

“You’ve got dreams, too, right?” Solo said, leaning in slightly, his voice dropping to a whisper. “Bigger than this job. You’re not stuck here. I can see it.”

You swallowed, unsure of how to respond. His words hit a little too close to home, the weight of your own ambitions heavier in this moment. “I do have dreams,” you said softly, voice barely above a whisper. “I told you before that I wanted to be a stylist, work with people who have style, make a name for myself. But sometimes... it feels like I’m just stuck. Like it’s never going to happen.”

Solo’s gaze softened, his hand moving slowly toward your thigh. His touch was deliberate but gentle, warmth radiating through the fabric of your black jeans. The moment his hand made contact, you froze, feeling a jolt of electricity shoot through your body. The tension between you was thick now, the space between you shrinking with each passing second.

“I get that feeling too,” he said quietly, his voice low. “It’s hard to believe in yourself when everyone’s telling you what you can’t do. But I know you can. You got what it take.”

You were lost in his gaze, the words hanging heavy in the air. But then, he shifted just slightly, leaning in a little closer. His hand rested on your thigh, a weight that made your heart race and your thoughts scatter.

“What you tryna do?” you whispered, the question escaping before you could think twice.

Solo’s gaze didn’t waver, his voice full of intent. “You.”

[nenoname]

Journal 3’s references to Stan

(Is this just a chopped up version of a post i made earlier so i can experiment to see why it didnt show up in the tags? ....maybe

But hey now I'm transcribing it all so I hope that helps those who can't read Ford's handwriting lol)

Pre-Portal Ford

"I recall finding a shrunken head in the family pawnshop & bringing it to show-and-tell. Every other student brought a football, a football trophy, or a book about football. All of these objects were thrown at me as I gave my report. If my brother hadn't shielded me and punched one of the other kids in the nose, I might have spent the rest of the year in the hospital."

“Worst of all, I was born with a rare birth defect: six fingers on each hand. Although my family tried to convince me that this made me special (and it did help with shadow puppets)”

[Truth Teeth page] “It would be quite interesting to see what my brother and mother would act like while wearing these!”

[Dream Hipster page] "I tried to shake my hand to make it stop, and it fell off my arm! My hand grew and grew, and began to chase me! Suddenly, I realized my hand wasn't chasing after me at all- it was chasing after my brother; and it was going to squeeze him to death! It grabbed him and lifted him into the air. I tried to run to help him, but my feet were frozen.

Just when it looked like my brother was done for, the Hipster appeared, and said, "LOOKS LIKE YOU FINALLY GAVE YOUR BROTHER A HANNNDD!" The entire thing was just a setup for one of the Hipster's stupid snarky puns!"

“It occurs to me that if I must keep secrets from F, I might as well begin writing certain passages of this book in code. I aced Cryptology in college, so this will be fun! (At least for me. It would be deeply tedious and annoying for someone trying to decipher it.) It amuses me to think of their frustrating effort!” (ok this is likely for the reader and likely ain’t a direct stan reference. but like. it is to me)

(Caesar cipher) "I still recall that one summer Stanley and I hunted for the Jersey Devil in the Pine Barrens. Mom and Dad never believed that we really saw one...."

"Reminds me of camping with my brother. I wonder what he's up to...."

“When I sat down, [the fortune teller] quickly grabbed my hands and said, "What took you so long, Sixer?” I felt a chill run down my back. How she knew my childhood nickname was beyond me."

"It reminds me of the tree forts me and my brother used to build... when we dreamed of being adventurers...."

"I collapsed by the parking lot of the Twin Bed Motel. I stared at the word "twin" as I tried to catch my breath, and I realized that there was only one person left in this world that I could possibly trust with my secrets. I began forming a plan."

[Blacklight Hiding Places page] “Journal 3: The volume I hold in my hands. Describes my embarrassing defeat at the hands of Bill and the loss of my very sanity. Also contains a pretty good drawing of a plaidypus. Will soon be bestowed upon S and hidden at the ends of the Earth (I hope).” (he wrote the wrong journal to give to Stan lmao)

"Ironically, the only other person left that I can trust is the least trustworthy person I know. He is a thief and a charlatan- but a well-traveled one. I have no doubt that he is familiar with mob hangouts and back alleys the wide world over. He will find somewhere to hide Journal 1. I have sent word to him and now must await his arrival.

Perhaps he can yet prove his worth to me. Perhaps the mistakes of the past can be undone. There's nothing I can do but wait."

"The time has come to bury this tome. After that, all there is left to do is wait for S. And save the world. Or lose my life in the effort.”

Other sections: Post-Portal, Post-Weirdmageddon, Lost Journal pages + Ford's letters

[comicaurora]

These have been pent up for a while, so there's a whole list lol. Some are Aurora, some are not.

1) Can lacrimas carry out multiple purposes at once? Or will they blend them? I'm assuming that this is possible, considering that the automaton in the ruins was using a lacrima as a brain

2) Has anyone tried to make tools or weapons out of lacrimas? I'm talking like chisel that needs no hammer. Or maybe a Fire lacrima on a bow that sets your arrows on fire

3) Can you engrave runes on lacrimas to make them affect themselves?

4) Where can I read more about the Twins? If I'm not wrong they're the creator gods, aided by the Light dragon and the Void dragon to create life, but I might be getting a wrong read on that

5) Since we see Erin successfully become the first Void mage, does that now mean there's potential for him to make a Void lacrima? The dragon probably won't allow it, but still

6) What exactly does elemental corruption of each element do? Fire literally burns you up, as we saw in Arc 1. I can infer that Life likely makes you a chimera. Void corruption makes you a cave crawler. But what do the other one do? Does Earth make you a statue? Does Wind disintegrate you, Thanos style?

7) Now onto the non-Aurora questions, is your art vector or raster? I believe it's vector, but it's always better to confirm

8) What are your opinions on reading into the environment and the character design to infer things about the character themselves? In any type of media

9) Have you played Baldur's Gate 3?

10) Do you have any music that you'd recommend? I've listened to every song I liked so many times that I hate them now.

11) I'm new to Tumblr, anything that I should know? You don't have to answer this one if you don't wanna. I think I know some of the basics already. Reblog what you like, and avoid the terfs, right?

You might be able to tell that I like the idea of the lacrimas a little bit. Just a teensy bit. The artificer in me definitely isn't obsessed. I appreciate any answers you can give :3

Cheers!

Ooh, lots of stuff!

Yes, it's possible. A lacrima can be engraved with multiple spells, set in a casing engraved with commands, or some combination of the two. Typically, all spells engraved directly on a lacrima will activate at once when the lacrima is "switched on", but a spell can be quite complex, and conditional activations are possible - "if-then-else" statements, basically.

Yes, magic items exist.

Generally no. If the lacrima is disrupted or broken, the spell generally stops functioning, so a self-affecting lacrima will run only as long as it takes for the lacrima to distort or break.

There's an extra lore page about them!

He probably could if he wanted to (and the Dragon allowed it) but Void energy is very dangerous, so he likely doesn't want to.

Each form of elemental corruption agitates the presence of the element in the mage's body. Earth corruption can damage or alter bones, encourage unhealthy petrification of soft tissues, etc. Wind corruption can have physical effects but it often most obviously produces breakdowns in the person's ability to speak or understand language. Lightning damages, numbs or intensifies a person's physical senses.

Raster, I draw with CSP's digital pens. I've only very briefly experimented with vector art - I don't like how it simplifies the lines.

I think it's a fun school of analysis but, like all literary analysis, it runs into trouble if it tries to lock down exactly what the writer was thinking or intending (which is an objective fact that one can be incorrect about) rather than trying to analyze the story on its own and what meaning might, intentionally or unintentionally, be factoring into it.

Nope

don't trust my taste in music it's 90% nu metal and sonic OSTs

Like what you like, reblog what you want, generally it's considered dubious form to add a comment to a reblog unless you have something profound to contribute (commenting in the tags is fine), steer clear of discourse and callout posts and generally the sectors of the site that are constantly on fire, blocking someone for any reason is 100% fine

[iamnmbr3]

I was reading the wiki page on Occlumency for a fic and now I'm even more confused why JKR thinks Draco can't be redeemed (or whatever she's said on it, I don't care too much for her words).

She literally acknowledges in a quote that Draco is so good at Occlumency because he can compartmentalise his feelings well, and gave as an example that he's such a 'good' bully (good is kind of contested because I really don't think he was that good lol) because he can suppress the pity he feels. Like, she basically says that he does feel bad for (some) of the things he did (or at least has the capacity to), and he just forces it down. I'd imagine an actually 'good' bully wouldn't even feel pity to begin with.

She also says he shut down his compassion to be a good DE, which really just sounds like he tried to shut it down and failed in the end, because he's awful at being actually cruel and doing things the other DEs do. And overall, most people don't hold out for very long when they're actively suppressing or shutting down emotions, and I honestly think it's very possible that Draco struggled more and more with that near the end of the War until it all fell apart at some point.

Of course, this is all just post-books quotes, and fuck JKR, but it's so interesting that she acknowledges that he can (and maybe actively does) feel pity and compassion, which would be such a good set up for a redemption arc imo!

I'm mostly asking this here because your analyses are amazing and you're by far my favourite drarry blog (even though this is only Draco, oops), but I'm curious what you think of this since I don't think you've said anything on this yet (correct me if I'm wrong lol, I could be).

yeah exactly. (for those who don't know - on wizarding world there's this whole long incredibly pretentious and condescending essay that she wrote about how draco didn't get a redemption arc and fans better not like him or else which is hugely contradictory and literally describes how he got a redemption arc - and drops some cool additional lore that makes him even more interesting and complicated - all while trying to get fans not to care. it's wild.) a while ago i started a meta breaking it down but I never got around to finishing it. I really should dig it up.

and yeah I think that whole essay provides great additional backstory that adds depth and interest to draco's character (love the bit about him keeping dark arts relics in a glass cabinet as a reminder - to look at and never use) and is literally the opposite of what jkr wants it to be. she literally describes how he had doubts and had to suppress parts of himself to go along with something he knew was wrong (something that bellatrix or even lucius very obviously didn't have to do) and how ultimately his morals won out, he spent the rest of his life regretting his actions, and fought with his family in order to raise his son with different values. I.e. he CHANGED HIS MIND AND HIS ACTIONS...aka a redemption arc.

the essay is great till jkr concludes with 'so this is why draco is irredeemably evil and fans shouldn't like him'. um ??? the??? why didn't u write him that way???? her lack of self awareness is bizarre.

[snek-panini]

Got a bit of a different bookbinding post today. @renegadeguild got an ask from a new binder saying they were intimidated by everyone's gorgeous binds (me too, actually, some of you guys are scary good), and so they've asked people to share their first binds. And I realized I'd never even taken photos of my first one, so here it is, warts and all:

This is E.M. Forster's The Machine Stops, a public domain scifi short story that you can read for free at the link. The first reason I chose it was that it's an interesting story, and I'd bought a print-on-demand copy a few years previously that was just terrible. Baffling cover choices, basic errors in the typeset (like quotes that face the wrong way), weird size that didn't fit on my shelf; just not a good product. I couldn't do it with more indifference than the PoD people. The second reason was that I was too intimidated by the thought of asking a fic writer if I could bind their story and then producing something with a thousand sloppy beginner mistakes, and then they'd want to see photos and I'd have to show them this and it would have been mortifying, but Forster has been dead since 1970 so I could not disappoint him. It was very freeing. I bound it in 2021 as an experiment, to see if I liked this hobby enough to stick to it. The cover is green cardstock and faux leather scrapbook paper that I bought at... probably Hobby Lobby. I added the title later, as a practice project when I first got my Cricut; for the first two years of its existence it had a blank cover.

There are more photos under the cut!

In this photo we can see:

--Too much glue when attaching the leather-print paper, so it oozed out onto the cover.

--Cricut font too thin and too much heat/too long of a press, so the letters have gaps and the glue also oozed out here. It's a continuing theme with this bind.

--I tried to use a bone folder to give it a sharper hinge crease and accidentally pressed too hard and tore a hole in the paper; you can see this in the little white vertical line near the top of the hinge

The fore edge is not square. I actually don't remember why this happened. I may have eyeballed the board position when I made the case, or the paper may have slipped while the glue was wet, or I cut it crooked and didn't notice till later. Either way it's bad enough that the book doesn't stand on its own. There was a crooked man/who walked a crooked mile/and found a crooked sixpence/against a crooked stile./He bought a crooked cat/which caught a crooked mouse/and they all loved together in a little crooked house, and I bet they read this little crooked book from their little crooked library.

Top view, you can see that the case is too big and the text block doesn't sit straight in it. It has no endbands or bookmark, and it's hard to see in this photo but there's glue on the top of it, at the spine. This still happens to me but I know how to trim books now so this bit gets cut off. You can also see that the scrapbook paper has some cracks where its white core is visible. This is why I do cloth or actual faux leather on the spines now. Endpaper shows uneven trim (did I not use a ruler for this??), too much glue causing major seepage, and it doesn't sit evenly in the case. I'm not sure if this is because of the case itself being crooked, a badly-trimmed endpaper, or if the text block is also crooked. Or it may be a combination of all these factors. Unclear.

Typeset photos! Here we see:

--Title page has a page number on it. This is a pet peeve of mine and I fixed it after this book.

--There is no half title, summary, or metadata. All my later binds have these things.

--It's typeset in Times New Roman. Unlike many I don't actually hate this font but reading it reminds me of being in high school so this is the only book I used it for. Baskerville is my beloved now. The font is also much bigger than it should be. It's not huge but it's like a large print book so it feels weird for me to read it.

--Lol what are margins

--Lol what are page headers

--Actually I think I left the headers out so it wouldn't have a header on the first page of each chapter, because I knew about page breaks but not section breaks at this time.

--It's on regular-ass lightweight printer paper. There's nothing wrong with this but I switched to heavier weight paper shortly after to help with bleed-through and the light stuff feels so flimsy now.

--I didn't understand how Word's book fold worked at this time, so when I had to set the sheets per booklet and it had an option for 4, I chose that thinking it would give me 4 sheets of paper (16 numbered pages) per sig. It did not do this. It gave me 4 numbered pages per sig. So every signature is 1 sheet of paper. Every page is its own signature. I am still mad about this but it sure drove home how the setting works and also how to make kettle stitches since you make one after every sig. A book of 48 pages has 12 signatures which is just ludicrous.

--There's no photo of this but it has a piece of printer paper on the spine because I didn't have mull. I did use PVA though. Lots and lots of PVA.

--It's stitched with regular sewing thread, which means it doesn't have much swell for a book with that many sigs, but it's less sturdy and more likely to tear the paper.

And that's that! It probably sounds a bit like I was tearing it to shreds but I actually love this book quite a lot. I learned so many things that I applied to my next binds, it was an invaluable experience. It let me fall in love with the hobby so I could make the awesome things I make now. I've got those all posted on my main blog under the tag #snek makes books, or you can see them all on my side blog @papersnakepress. For a first book it's functional and readable, and still better than the PoD copy I had before. I've been thinking of doing a rebind as a sort of progress gauge, actually. Maybe next year.

[mynoiii]

My Kinda controversial Darlin and Quinn mini rant

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This is just my opinion/what I've observed.

I just want to share my thoughts <3

Before anything else; this post might seem like im trying to defend quinn, but I'm not. Homeboy is a bad guy at the end of the day and did bad stuff.this is just my thoughts.

I didn't grammer check this...it's 3am LOL

I honestly wish I could've worded this better, but I hope it's at least understandable.

Enjoy✨️💃🏾💃🏾

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I have no evidence of this but it's something that's been lingering in my mind for a while; so ima just come out and say it.

I believe that darlin and Quinn relationship started on a good note.

Whenever I decide to travel on over to the redacted pages here on tumblr I always see everyone with the same opinion that their relationship has always started on a bad note and that it was manipulation from the beginning; and for some reason I don't think that's the case.

I'll be honest. I used to think this as well... but over time, my mind has changed.

I believe that their relationship started with pure intentions; these are two people who we're broken from their own circumstances, saw this in each other, and came together because of that. They we're eachothers anchers, eachothers rock.

Now..is that a good way to start a relationship? Absolutely not. But are the intentions of caring for eachother because of circumstances and possibly beyond that genuine? I would say yes.

At the time both Quinn and darlin were both misfits in their fields, so naturally they'd be drawn to eachother and share there experiences and Bond over that; I'm going to skip over the whole attraction part because we all know Canonically darlin is very attractive, just ask porter.

Now, are couples are allowed to depend on each other for things? Of course, but where Quinn and darlin went wrong was only seeking out their relationship BECAUSE they depended on each other. I mean Quinn said it himself, he knew darlin needed him around for there own sake, they constantly went to him to forget things; and there is no way Quinn didn't do this same with darlin.

Now I know before all of this it's still established that Quinn was already a bad person, there is nothing i can say that can dispute this fact or change it.I think Quinn seeked out darlin for comfort, and it wasn't ment to end up in lies and manipulation.

This might not be cannon but I'm sure Quinn has mentioned to darlin about there relationship with the pack and has tried to give some genuine advice on what they should do. I added to a rant a while ago about darlin and Quinn but here is something else; even beyond just them bonding over eachothers traumas they knew eachothers, skills, the way they act, and think, like the back of their hands....they generally knew eachother outside of the whole trauma bonding stuff.

If Quinn didn't become obsessive over darlin and these two worked out there trauma I'm sure they would've had a good relationship with one other. ( dispute Quinn criminal past already, but I'm sure yall are getthing the point )

Quinn killed darlin friend not only has a punishment for snitching on him; but simply because he most likely scared darlin would find that comfort in someone else; he wanted to be the only person to give darlin the relief they we're seeking.cause let's remember outside of the pack darlin only had their uninpowered friend and himself.

something that racks my brain is darlin is a perfect example of how to do things right and how to do things wrong; cause if you really think about it...darlin and Sam relationship started the same way.....one common interest; finding Quinn.

The difference is this: sam allowed darlin to have the space they needed in order to grow; but was still there to give them advice, and knew when to put his foot down in order to help them guide themselves down the right path.Even beyond that, sam made sure to show care outside of their common interest allowing their relationship to grow naturally dispite them having a slow burn.example;him coming over to heal darlin and ordering them food.

Compared to Quinn, who always felt like he needed to drive them to where they needed to go, not allowing them to have the space they needed in order to move on from their circumstances.example; Quinn bitting darlin for pain so they can forgot about whatever was currently on their mind.

I think darlin and Quinn could've been a decent/okay couple if they simply have slowed down and gave each other the time, the space, and the patience to work with one another. They probably would've had a bonnie and cylde kinda vibe? Idk.

But I'm happy with sam. Sam and darlin are truly soulmates in every universe; but there has to be atleast one universe where darlin and Quinn worked out and they are happy.

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I'm still not 100% on my own opinion about this, but it's something that randomly came into my mind, and I had to get into words

I could rant about these two for HOURS cause they are so much more than what the Fandom makes them out to be. They are one of my roman empires

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